#AmericanWriters
In my heart the old love Struggled with the new; It was ghostly waking All night thru. Dear things, kind things,
The princess has her lovers, A score of knights has she, And each can sing a madrigal, And praise her gracefully. But Love that is so bitter
I am alone, in spite of love, In spite of all I take and give’… In spite of all your tenderness, Sometimes I am not glad to live. I am alone, as though I stood
My heart has grown rich with the p… I have less need now than when I… To share myself with every comer Or shape my thoughts into words wi… It is one to me that they come or…
THE days remember and the nights… The kingly hours that once you mad… Deep in my heart they lie, hidden… Buried like sovereigns in their ro… Let them not wake again, better to…
Crisply the bright snow whispered, Crunching beneath our feet; Behind us as we walked along the p… Our shadows danced, Fantastic shapes in vivid blue.
SUPPER comes at five o’clock, At six, the evening star, My lover comes at eight o’clock’ But eight o’clock is far. How could I bear my pain all day
Oh would I were the roses, that l… The heavy burning roses she touche… Dear hands that hold the roses, wh… Oh leave, oh leave the roses, and… She draws the heart from out them,…
The twilight’s inner flame grows b… And in my Lesbos, over leagues of… The temples glimmer moonwise in th… Twilight has veiled the little flo… Here on my heart, but still the ni…
Send out the singers—let the room… They have not eased my pain nor br… Close out the sun, for I would ha… That I may feel how black the gra… The sun is setting, for the light…
Like barley bending In low fields by the sea, Singing in hard wind Ceaselessly; Like barley bending
You go a long and lovely journey, For all the stars, like burning de… Are luminous and luring footprints Of souls adventurous as you. Oh, if you lived on earth elated,
They spoke of him I love With cruel words and gay; My lips kept silent guard On all I could not say. I heard, and down the street
A half-hour more and you will lean To gather me close in the old swee… But oh, to the woman over the sea Who will come at the close of day? A half-hour more and I will hear
The northern woods are delicately… The lake is folded softly by the s… But I am restless for the subway’… The thunder and the hurrying of fe… I try to sleep, but still my eyeli…